If it ain’t money don’t know what the topic is/Don’t come out till next year that mean I’m rockin’ it/Order thirty-seven bottle call it poppin’ shit

Wiz’sneed to consume is so ingrained in him that he can’t help but buy his own hype. The cost, however, goes beyond monetary value, and begins to reveal where Wiz is going creatively – and it’s not good. This song is a mirror, one that reflects how he’s slowly becoming a caricature of himself.

Riff by Jeff Min

Jeff Min is a Chicago-based writer at SONGLYRICS. His work has appeared in the Chicago Sun-Times, Hi-Fructose, Wax Poetics, SLAM, and HOOP.